


It's not forever, Dearie

by HandwithQuill



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: AU, F/M, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-10
Updated: 2015-08-22
Packaged: 2018-02-04 03:15:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1763887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HandwithQuill/pseuds/HandwithQuill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Skin Deep AU: Instead of making a deal to make Belle his maid, he deals with her for something else</p><p>"What is it you want me to do?” He dropped his hands to his side and clenched them. She was shocked to see what she thought was trepidation flit through his eyes before he blinked. </p><p>“Have a child with me.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I asked for prompts yesterday and an Anon gave me one that gave a frame to a couple of scene in my head. I know I've read a few others fic with this plot, but I wanted to try my hand at it. Also, there is a few changes in Rumple past that change his actions a little.

Belle set the book she was trying to read on the window ledge next to her as she read the same sentence for the fifth time and still didn't know what it said. He mind was far away with the messenger bird she had released not three days ago. It had taken her a week to convince her father that they were desperate enough to contact the Dark One. 

She wondered how long it would take for him to get the message and if he would find their situation interesting enough to come deal. She didn't know how long she sat there staring at nothing when she felt like she was being watched. She turned and surprised herself by not jumping when she saw someone on her bed. 

“Finally noticed me, dearie?” He sat up and she studied him. He didn't seem too much taller then her, slight of frame and in the dark she couldn't tell just what his skin tone was.

“Are you Rumpelstiltskin?” she asked, even though she didn't know who else it could be. 

“At you service.” He stood and made an elaborate bow. She stood and curtsied in response. 

“Thank you for coming.”

He waved the thanks away, wandering around her room. “The original message was written by your father, I believe, my dear?” She nodded. “I must say I was intrigued by the note you slipped inside. Why did you do it?”

“In trying to convince my father and the council to contact you, I tried to research you, to weed out the truth from the rumor and exaggerations in the tales told about you. As such, I knew that what he promised in payment would not...tempt you”

“Yes,” he said, hand trailing along the spines of the books in the case along the far wall. Picked up a few, looked at the titles before replacing them. “Yes,” he continued, “I wouldn't have come if what your father payment was the only compensation I would have been offered. It is surprising, giving the tales of my dealings, how often I’m offered gold or other jewels.” 

She nodded, but didn't know what else to say as he prowled around her room. She cleared her throat. “I know you are busy, sir. And as such, I will be brief. Our message said what we want, if you were to do as we ask, what would you require as payment?”

He ignored her and walked over the the next bookcase and scanned the title there. “You have a lot of histories here, dearie? Lots of book on far off places.” He turned on his heel to look at her, the fingertips of each hand pressed together, his pointers taping right about his lip “Interesting choices for a Lord's daughter?”

She shrugged. “How else am I to learn of the world. I am, as you say, a Lord's daughter. I have a duty to my people.”

“You won't have a people after the Ogres get here.” he laughed.

“Which is why I sent the message.” He hmm-ed and continued to pace, this time stopping at her dresser. He tilted his head and cocked an eyebrow at her as he reached out with a claw and hooked the claps of the gaudy necklace sitting there.

“Not really you, My Lady.” He let it drop. 

“No,” she agreed, “It was a betrothal gift, but now it will do some good. It should get enough food to feed the village for the next month.” She couldn't to stop the twitch of her lip at the sight of it now anymore then when Gaston had given it to her.

“Not too fond of your Betrothed?” He asked with feinted shock. “Shouldn't you be dreaming,” his hands spread and fluttered about his head, “of your future with whatever Knight caught your father's attention.” 

“My fate should be my own.” she said before shaking her head. She didn't want to think about her predestined fate as Gaston's bride. “Will you help us or not?”

“Yes. Yes, I think there is a deal here.” He turned to face her, hands once again pressed fingertip to fingertip in front of him. “You see, my dear, there is something I have wanted for a while now, but have been unable to find the right person to help me get it. I think you meet all of the qualifications I require. You help me with this and I'll take care of your Ogre problem. Agreeing will also get you out of the betrothal you don't care for allowing you to traverse the world as you see fit.”

“What is it you want me to do?” He dropped his hands to his side and clenched them. She was shocked to see what she thought was trepidation flit through his eyes before he blinked. 

“Have a child with me.”


	2. Chapter 2

Belle's hands went out to her sides to steady her as the ground wobbled under her feet. She felt Rumpelstiltskin’s hand on her elbow as the reddish-purple smoke dissipated. Once he was sure that she was steady, he snatched his hand back and took a few steps away. She nodded and smiled her thanks at him, looking around the room. The hall was large, a long sturdy table took up much of the room and pedestals lined the edge, holding many different type of items. 

She wasn't sure if it was a habit or a nervous tick that caused her to brush at the non-existent wrinkles in the skirt of her golden dress, still a little bit jittery at the play acting they had just preformed for her father. She didn't want to lie to him but had agreed that it was the best way for them to uphold their deal. She brought her hands up to rub at her shoulders. He frowned at her and flung out his hand, causing a fire to roar to life in the huge fireplace. 

“Thank you.” She took the few steps closer warmed her hands. “It's cooler here?”

“We're high in the mountains,” he told her. “Spring may have come to your land, but there's still a few weeks of winter up here.” She nodded, then watched as he stood there, hands swinging by his side, decidedly not looking at her. 

“Would you like to see your room?” he finally asked.

“Yes, please.” He seemed relived as he turned on his heels and quickly walked out of the room. She followed him into the entrance hall and up the stairs. He stopped at a door and, with a glance at her, pushed it open. She stepped in and looked around. The room was well appointed, bigger then the one in her father's castle. It held a comfortable looking four poster bed with a small table on each side. The two windows were large, reaching from the floor to the ceiling. She smiled brightly when she saw the bookcases sitting between the windows. 

She walked farther in and stopped next to the trunk at the foot of the bed. Her fingers caressed the well worn nicks in the top. She had spent the most of last night packing it, trying to think of every thing she might need after she did her part of the deal and was free to travel.

“Thank you.” He waved away her words.

“I'll let you settle in. When your ready, come back down to the Great Hall and I'll show you around a little.” She blinked as he disappeared in a swirl of reddish-purple smoke. She sighed, then opened the trunk to unpack.

** ** ** 

After she hung up all her dresses and organized the books on the empty shelves, she changed out of the golden gown and found him in the Great Hall. He was sitting at the spinning wheel by the far window. She watched him for a moment. He had changed was well, no longer wearing the spiky scarf and hide coat, but wearing the leather trouser with a silk shirt under a brocade waistcoat. She watched as one basket at his feet was emptied of straw and another filled up with gold. When he was done, he turned to look over his shoulder at her. 

“I hope everything was suitable?”

“Yes,” she told him with a smile, “Everything is perfect.” 

“Good, good.” He stood, hand held out to his side, “I'll show you around a little, if you like, but first I have sometime for you.”

He motioned to the table and in a swirl of magic a tray was sitting there. On it were a glass vial, a needle and a dish with something inside it that looked like liquid metal with blue stone floating in it. He poured what was in the dish int the vial and then he picked up the needle showed it to her and held out his hand. Tentatively, she placed her hand in his. Slowly, letting her see what he was doing, he pricked her fingertip and held it over the vial. They watched as three drops of blood fell into the grayish liquid. He raised her hand and blew over her fingertip, it tingled as it healed. 

He picked up the vial and swirled it around. She watched as his purplish-red smoke lightly surrounded it and blinked as she watched the amount of liquid diminish as it swirled. Finally a tinkling sound came from the vial and he stopped spinning it. He dumped the contents out onto his palm and showed it to her.

It was a ring. A silver ring with one sapphire embedded in it. He reached out for her hand and slid it on with the stone on the bottom of her finger. A pass of his hand and it wavered for a second. 

“There, now only you can see it. It's attuned to you, the stone will glow when it's the best time to tried to fulfill our deal?”

“Oh?” 

“Yes,” he said quickly. “I will never approach you. We will only try when you are ready, however long that take. The ring will tell you when your body is ready, but we won't do anything until you are ready.”

She looked between the ring only she could see and him. He was trying so hard to make this easy on her. “Thank you”.

Again, he waved it away. “Would you like me to show you around now?”

She nodded and he motioned to his right. She followed him down a staircase. At the bottom was the kitchen. The shelves and cabinets were fully stocked, but the kitchen fireplace was cold and cobwebby, as was the pots and pans she saw hanging nearby. She looked at him.

“The Castle's magic can do much, but needs the raw materials to work with. If you ever need anything, the Castle should provide it.”

She nodded again and they went up a different staircase. They came out of a door under the main stairs, he went up them and branched off to the right. The torches illuminated as they approached, then extinguished as they passed. He pointed out things as the passed as well, paintings, tapestries and other trinkets displayed. It was all interesting, but after the fourth salon and third gallery her mind was a little blurry. 

He smiled at her as her eyes glazed and led her to a door at the end of the hall. He opened the door that led up a short spiral staircase, he paused at the top and waited for her to catch up. She stopped next to him and waited for a moment before he flung out his hand, causing all the torches in the room to light at once. She gasped and took a few steps into the room, spinning to take it all in. 

Books! Shelves upon shelves of books, going as high up as she could see.

“I thought you might like this room.” He was leaning on the balustrade, a grin at the corner of his lips. “Feel free to use this, or any of the rooms I showed you. I want you to feel comfortable during your stay here.”

“Thank you. I sure I will,” she smiled. He nodded and moved to go down the stairs, before turning on his heel.

“One other thing, many of the people I deal with come to the Dark Castle to do so. Most are desperate and not all are nice people, if I ask, would you return to your room and stay there?”

“Yes,” she said, after thinking for a moment. “I suppose there also might be time when you are not able to ask?” He nodded. “I also suppose that those times it would be helpful for you to move me to my room?” 

She smiled at the surprise that flashed across his face. “That would be helpful, yes. I will, of course, come get you as soon as they leave.” 

She turned to examine some of the books closest to her, dipping her head to let her hair hide her face as she watched him out of the corner of her eye. He stood there flustered before quickly descending the steps. 

He was not what she was expecting from what people said about the terrifying Dark One. of course, she didn't quite expect him to act like that with her considering what his deal with her was for. She again wondered why he wanted the child. The tales said he traded in children, were those true? As she looked for a book that looked interesting, her mind thought back to a few days ago when he made his deal.

_“What?” She folded her hands over her stomach, as if to keep him from snatching what wasn't there._

_“That's my offer. You have a child with me and I save you from your fate as your husbands trophy, eliminating your Ogre problem as well. It won't be forever, Dearie. Once the child is born, you'll be on your way to travel the world to your hearts content.”_

_“And if I say no?” she asked to give her time to think, cause she was thinking about it. She had been watching him as he prowled around her room. He said nothing about the amount of books, but asked the reason about the content. He offered her a way to travel instead of laughing at her about it. And there was the look in his eyes just before he asked. He knew what kind of reaction he could get, was expecting outrage, but there was something else in there, something....yearning. And not for her, not in a physical way._

_She examined him as she waited for his answer. Strange coloration aside, he looked like a man. And if a child with him was formed the same way it would be with Gaston, well, what really would be the difference with doing that with him instead of Gaston? The only difference she could think of was she would be free afterwards. With Gaston, she would have to repeat the process again and again. She knew she would love any children she would have the her betrothed, but the boys would eventually grow up to be just like their father and the girls would have the same fate she was facing._

_“Oh,” he said with a wave of his hand, “I would come to your father tomorrow. I'm sure there has to be something we could agree on.”_

_“Have you asked any one else for this?” She didn't know why, but that felt important. He met her eye and that look was there again. Trepidation, yearning and something else._

_“No,” he said softly, shaking his head._

_“I'll do it.” she told him just as softly._

_“What?” He sounded surprised, it made her grin and held out her hand._

_“We have a deal, Rumpelstiltskin.”_

_“That we do.” Slowly, he took her hand and she felt something tingle up her arm as the magic contract bound them._

A torch flickering out, before flaring to life again caught her attention from the book she was engrossed in. She realized how late it had gotten and stretched on the chaise she was laying on, before returning to her room. 

Quickly changing out of her dress and into a nightgown, she sat at the vanity to brush her hair. There was a sheet covering the mirror and her hand reached up to grasp it, before she jerked it back. The room had been readied for her, it wasn't ones of the many unused rooms she thought must be lurking in a castle this size. If he had it covered, there must be a reason. She made a mental note to ask the next time she saw him. Which wasn't going to be as far away as she might have thought as there was a knock on the door. 

“Come in,” she called. The door opened and he took one step inside. 

“Getting ready for bed, I see.”

“Yes, thought it's a little hard.” She gestured to the covered mirror.

“Ah, yes. Mirror's do so much more then just reflect when it comes to magic. You never know who might be look at you threw them.”

“Looking at you?” She turned to look at it.

“Don't worry, as long as it's covered, it's fine.” He took another step inside, hand coming up. “I can do that for you, if you like?” 

She turned back to him, not understanding what he meant, until he gestured to her brush, with a shy smile. She returned it and handed the brush over, scooting forward on the bench seat so he could settle behind her. 

With surprisingly quick hands, he pulled out all the pins, placing them in a small dish on the vanity, and with gentle, knowing strokes, brushed out the tangles out of her hair. 

“Have you tended to a woman's hair before?”

He stopped mid-stoke, tensing behind her.

“Once,” he said quietly, before resuming. “A long time ago.” 

“Oh.” She didn't ask anything more as he twined her hair into a braid. He secured it with a ribbon, then tugged on it once, before flipping it over her shoulder.

“Does that suffice, My Lady?”

“Yes, thank you.” She moved to stand, but his hands on her shoulder prevented her. 

“Belle?” She didn't turn to look at him, but made a questioning sound. “I know what I've asked of you is....not going to be easy to achieve for you. I don't want you to be uncomfortable with it. And I was wondering, to help you get comfortable with me, would you object to me sleeping in the same bed as you?” She gasped. “You know I won't touch you!” he hurried to repeat. “You can have as many pillows and blankets between us, but I just think, it might help you get use to having me close.”

She slowly turned to face him. His was trying to keep a neutral look on is face. She thought again that he was trying to make this as easy as possible for her. And he was right, sleeping near him would help with just the idea of being closer to him then she'd ever had to be to someone. 

“Okay,” she told him, the smiled as he let out a breath. She stood and turned down the sheets. When she turned back to him, he was in a nightshirt and approached the bed. 

“Which side?”

She shrugged, having never preferred one. She slipped into the left as she was all ready on that side. He laid down next to her, making sure there was room between them and pulled up the covers. He waved his hand and all the candles went out, leaving the room lit by the fireplace. She could feel the tension in him and took deep breaths to calm herself, hoping it would help him. She fell asleep somewhere between breath six and seven.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you to @little-inkstone for the Beta! 
> 
> Also, a little while ago, I asked for prompts for this fic. An anon gave one that fit into what I already had planned. “Anon prompted: It's not forever: Belle stumbles across a fully prepped nursery that looks like nobody enter the room in years.
> 
> A/N 2: Yeah, I know it's nearly been a year, but, um...I have no excuses. Bad, Quill, Bad!

Belle's eyelids fluttered as she awoke. She languidly stretched before she turned her head. She wasn't surprised when the bed was empty. 

In the weeks she had been at the Dark Castle, he had only been in the bed the first morning. She had awoken before him and had spent the time examining his face. His eyes were moving rapidly behind his lids and she wondered what the Dark One, the most powerful Sorcerer in all the realms, would dream about. 

She had rolled out of bed and, selected a dress, took it behind the screen to change. When she came out, he was up, dressed and standing in front of the fire. They stared awkwardly at each other for a few seconds before he asked her how she slept. After her reply of 'Fine', he nodded and mumbled something about needing to get to work, that she was free to explore the castle, and disappeared in a wave of smoke.

She made a trip to the kitchen for breakfast. While he said that the castle would make it for her, she found it enjoyable to fix it herself. First, of course she had to sweep out the fireplace and wash a pan or two. She took her plate up to the library and the book she hadn't finished last night. She did finish it around mid-day and went to look for him. She didn't find him in the Great Hall or any of the other rooms she checked, so after a light lunch, she explored some of the galleries he had shown her last night. By the time the sunset, and he still didn't seem to be back, she started to get a little worried, but when she returned to the Great Hall, he was at his wheel. 

He didn't seem to know that she was there and she watched as he spun. The slow creak of the wheel as he turned it by hand and the soft switch of the straw as it was fed into the spindle. She couldn't tell when the straw became gold, no matter how intently she watched him fill the spool. 

She didn’t realize that she had crept closer until the wheel stopped, just before her hand touched the thread. She startled and pulled her hand away, looking at him with an embarrassed smile. He shyly returned it with a raised eyebrow, then he stood, held out his hand, and when she took it, led her back to the long table which now was filled with food. 

The conversation was halting at first before he asked about her home. As she described Papa's castle, Avonlea, and the Marchlands, a tension she didn't realize was sitting in the small of her back eased. And after the meal was finished, she stayed in the Hall reading while he returned to his spinning. When her eyes grew heavy, she bid him good night. His hands flexed on the wheel, and he turned his head slightly and gave her a nod. 

She was just pulling her nightgown down when there was a shy knock on the door. He entered when she bid him and he brushed out her hair again, before they crawled into the bed. 

The next few weeks were spent in a similar manner. Sometime they would have breakfast together as well, but for most of the day, he left her to her own devices. The only difference was during the second week. As she sat before the fire reading, listening to the creak of the spinning wheel, her hand started to tingle. Turning it over, she gasped at the soft blue glow of the sapphire in the ring he gave her. She clenched her hand and darted her eyes over to him. He was still spinning. She couldn't concentrate on her book, so she went up to bed. 

When he came up to bed a little while later, he seemed to take a little longer to brush her hair. And when he had tied it off, he didn't get up immediately. She tensed when he leaned in and she felt his hands on her waist. They moved until he took hold of her hands and he lifted her hand, palm upward. Leaning over her shoulder, he kissed the ring. 

“Only when you are ready, My Lady,” he whispered, before standing and climbing into bed. 

The memory and the indentation that Rumpelstiltskin had left on his pillow made her smile as she dressed for the day, going to the kitchen for breakfast. Once it was made, she brought the tray up to the Great Hall. For once he wasn't spinning, but standing in front of the fireplace, hands cupped behind his back. He started when she placed the tray on the table, turning towards her and smiling. 

“Did you sleep well?” he asked.

“Yes,”

“Good,” he said, his hands fluttering by his side. “Good,” He held a hand out towards the table, and helped her with her chair, before taking his. “I'm glad you are settling in here well. It will put my mind at easy while I'm gone.”

“Gone?”

“Yes,” he said “There are a few deals I have in the works. They will all come together in the next week, but a little...fine tuning... on my side will be needed. It's not the nicest of places or I would take you with me, if you wanted?”

“Oh, I would! Some other time?”

He nodded and they ate in silence. He left right after, telling her that the castle would see to any needs she had. 

The next few days were slow and to entertain herself, Belle took to exploring more of the Castle. It seemed like an endless maze at times. When she thought she reached the end of a wing, she'd find a concealed door that lead to more rooms. All with an adventure in them. 

The most interesting room she found was right next to her room. When she entered it, it looked like it was main living area to a suit of room that her's was supposed to be part of. She could even see where the door to her room should be. Going threw the only other door made her stop short. 

It was a nursery.

It's existence isn't what shocked her, but that it wasn't new, set up for the child they had yet to conceive. Like the rest of the castle it was coated in layers of dust. The style of the crib and changing table were old, as were the toys set in rows on the shelves. Opening the drawers of the dresser, she found childrens clothes for boys and girls that were centuries out of date. 

She swallowed as tears formed in her eyes, hands pressing to her abdomen, as she remembered what he said on the night of their deal. About how there was something he had wanted for a while, but he had been unable to find someone to help. How long had he wanted a child? A child no woman was willing to bare for him. How long had he longed for a family?

She wiped at the tears and set to work on the dust. It had to be cleaned for their child. The cleaning helped erase some of the sadness that had settled on her.

 

At night, though, some of it came back. As she took a tray up to her room, the halls no longer seemed to invite her to explore, but were dark and empty. Her room also was different, she couldn't put her finger on it, but she felt it most as she brushed her hair for the night and as she lay down to sleep, the indentation in Rumpelstiltskin's pillow the last thing she saw.

Even thought Rumpelstiltskin didn't say when he would be back, one day when she woke up, Belle felt like the castle seemed... _happier_. She rolled out of bed and dressed quickly. When she made it to the Great Hall, he was there, at his wheel. 

“You're back.”

“Yes,” he said turning on the stool to look at her. “And are you happy about that, my dear?”

“I'm not unhappy.” she teased.

“Oh?” he smiled. She blinked, a fluttering in her stomach started as she looked at his smile. The fluttering turned to warmth and started to move up to her cheeks. She opened her mouth to say something, but changed her mind.

“Did your deals go the way you wanted?”

“Yes, they were very successful.”

He was quiet and she wondered if she should bring up the nursery when he spoke again. 

“I, uh, I brought you something.” He motioned with his hand and in a swirl of purple, a bundle appeared on the table. Pulling on the string, she unwrapped the cloth to find a stack of books. Six volumes of a book titled _'1001 Nights.'_

“It's very popular in Agrabah right now, but I doubt you've read it yet. I hope you like it.”

“Thank you,” she told him, picking up the first volume, hand moving over the smooth leather. She sat in her armchair by the fire and read to him. Somewhere between the middle of _'Tale of the Trader and the Jinni'_ and the beginning of _'The fisherman and the Jinni'_ her hand started to tingle a little and the sapphire started to glow again. 

When she noticed it, she couldn't help looking at him. His back was to her as he spun, her eyes traveled along his trim waist, and as much as she tried to keep them up, down to the way his leather trousers molded to him. 

Her stomach was fluttering again and her cheeks were getting warm and she forced her eyes back to the page. They didn't listen and watched his hands as he prepped the straw and fed it into the wheel, the way his fingers would caress the wheel as he moved it. She fidgeted in her chair as she imagined what the textual of his skin would feel like. How would his hand feel on her or how would it feel under her own hand?

She gulped and turned towards the fire, hoping to blame it for the redness of her cheeks. 

“Belle?” She started, realizing that the creak of the spinning wheel had stopped. She looked over at him, turned on the stool, a worried frown on his face. “Are you all right?”

“Yes,” she squeaked. “yes,” she tried again, clearing her throat, and snapping the book shut. “I'll just think I'd like to read outside for a little while today.” His frown deepened and he looked out the window at the snow clouds that were forming. “I won't be long!” She stood and quickly made for the door, pulling a cloak off the hook by the door.

The cool air felt great on her cheeks and she did a couple of trips around the garden before going back inside. She went up to the library and stayed there until dinner. 

He seemed tense, eating slowly with quick looks at her, before putting down his fork.

“Belle? Have I done something to upset you?”

“What?” Her eyes shot to his. “No!”

“It's just you seemed very distant today.”

“I'm sorry.” she told him, “It's not you. My heads been in a strange place today.” She reached out and grasped his hand “I'm sorry I made you think it was you.”

He looked uncertain for a moment, before he nodded, but she could still see the doubt in his eyes. 

“Tell me about Agrabah,” she asked to get him talking about something else. He smiled and told her about the desert city. 

That night he took longer to bush her hair, drawing out each stoke and she didn't know if it was deliberate, but she could feel his fingers tickle the nape of her neck, causing the fluttering again. She suddenly wanted to wrap his arms around her waist and lean back against him. 

She was still feeling it as they craw into bed, the space between them felt bigger then all of the Enchanted Forest. She bit her lip in indecision, before rolling over and wiggling next to him. Without looking, she knew his eyes opened as his arms shot up to hover above them. She placed her head on his chest, wrapped one hand around his waist and gently curled one leg around his. 

“Good night, Rumpelstiltskin.”

There was a few more seconds before his hands lower and tentatively place themselves around her. She wasn't sure what she heard in his voice as he whispered “Goodnight, Belle,” into her hair. 

That decision changed things slightly as the next few weeks were marked by touches. Shoulders grazed as they passed in the halls, fingers brushed as they passed cups and plates, a hand trailing along his shoulder as he sat spinning, or in his hair if he sat by the fire as she read to him. And every night, after he brushed her hair, they snuggled down in their bed.

She knew it was coming because all day she couldn't seem to keep her eyes off his leather clad bottom, so she wasn't surprised that night when her ring started glowing. This time, she only licked her lips and shut her book. Standing, she moved over to where he was spinning and held out her hand. Their eyes met and she smiled at him. 

“Come to bed, Rumple.”


	4. Chapter 4

Belle's eyes flutter as she awoke. Like the last few nights she curled around Rumple. The main difference was of course that this time there was nothing between them. She brought a hand up and swirled the tip in mindless patterns over his chest. His skin was both smooth and textured, and she loved the feel of it. Under her fingers right now, and last night.

After he took her hand last night, they had walked in silence up to their room. She remembered the hesitating movements of his hands as he un-laced her stays. She knew they were copied in her own hands as she unbuttoned his waistcoat and pushed his shirt off his shoulders. 

She could feel herself blushing, turning her face into his chest as she remembered the rest. The shy looks they shared as they laid on the bed, his hands tracing her skin, lips kissing her breast, as his hands moved down between her legs, touching, caressing to make sure she was ready for him. And that moment when he entered her, his eyes on her's, checking if she was alright, until he was all the way in. The gentle rocking he was doing causing her to move, to lift her hips to meet his. The pressure building, building, until he braced above her and took her hand to bring his lips, kissing her ring, and the pressure exploded, causing her to gasp and arch and clench around him. She was barely aware of his hurried thrust, before he gasped himself and fell to her side, pulling her against him. He whispered an 'Are you alright?” and she tried to answer but she wasn't sure if he heard her before she fell asleep.

His nipples pebbled under her fingers movements, his hand coming up to capture her's, even as his head turned and pressed a kiss to her hair. With shy smiles, they dress and go down to breakfast. She can't believe how _normal_ the rest of the day is. She ponders it as she walks in the garden at mid-day. She expected to feel...different, she guessed? She assumes it's because he let her take the time to get to know his first that it doesn't feel awkward.

And it's not, not even later that night when _he's_ the one to come over to her, head ducked, letting his hair hide his face, and shyly holding out his hand to her. She smiles and takes his hand. That night is even better then the one before. The next even better, and the next and the next, all the way until she wakes up one morning and realizes that her ring isn't glowing anymore. 

She leaves the bed before he wakes, and he finds her a few hours later standing in front of a window in her library. 

“Belle?” It's said quietly from the top of the stairs. She doesn't answer, but is aware of his hesitant steps and his hand reaching out, but pulling back just before he touches her shoulder. “Are-are you all right?”

“It stopped glowing.” She turned her head to him and held up her hand. There was so many thoughts flickering across her face that she couldn't make them out before they closed off as he stepped back, shoulders squaring.

“Of course,” he said, “I'm sorry. I'm sure you wanted to be done with this part as quickly as possible, but there was no guarantee that it would happen the first time.” He took another step, head lowering, hair hiding his eyes. “Nothing has changed, though. I expect nothing. I will not touch you until you give permission.” 

She gasped and opened her mouth to tell him...tell him....she wasn't even sure. That she never thought that he would expect it, that she was disappointed that she hadn't fulfilled her part of the deal, that there was another reason in the back of her mind that she knew was the real reason she was sad it had stopped glowing, but it wouldn't come to her. But none on it mattered because he disappeared with out any showy hand motions or magical smoke.

The awkwardness she had expected in the beginning appeared now. The next couple day they seemed to tip-toe around each other, like when she first came to the Dark Castle. To relieve some of the tension, she threw herself into fixing the nursery. The dust was easily defeated, and she was glad that the furniture was still in excellent condition. The clothes, though, were another thing. Musty smelling and full of moth holes, she set about salvaging what she could and put her embroidery lessons to use.

She was only able to save one reviving blanket and the next few weeks she spent embroidering the corners. On one she stitched a pile of books, the corner diagonally from it she was working on a Griffon. She wanted the child to know _something_ of it's mother. A spinning wheel would go in the third corner, but she still didn't know about the last one. She wanted to be a little more done, thought, before she asked Rumpelstiltskin what he wanted. 

The embroidery left her mind free, gave her time to figure out what that other reason was, so the next time her ring glowed she would be ready. She didn't quite figure it out in time, but she was amazed that it wasn't necessary as when she held out her hand, took him up to bed, the tension that remained between them melted when his hands caressed her skin, and his lips trailed warm paths everywhere. The care and reverence he took in making sure she found her pleasure was more enjoyable to her then what her was doing to her body. And when he joined them, their bodies moving together, before the pleasure washed over both of them, she knew what the reason was. 

In the morning, hand once again trailing along his chest, she knew when he awoke.

“Rumple?” She let her hand slid down to his stomach. “I was thinking, with what we are trying to do, wouldn't it make sense, for it to-to happen more often?”

She could feel the blush on her cheeks, even as he stiffened under her. 

“What?” It was nearly a squeak. 

“It's just the more time it happens, the more chances for-for our deal to be fulfilled, right?” She peeked up at him, his eyes were wide with shock, but there was something else lurking behind the shock. Especially when she moved her hand down to stroke his morning erection “You're already like this in the morning, so...” she gave a half shrug, “I'll help right? For-for the deal?” She squeezed him. 

“Yes!” he hissed, hips bucking, eyes blown wide, “Are you sure, Belle?” She squeezed again, “For-for-for the deal?”

“Yes, Rumple.” She brought her hand up to his shoulder, pulling him over her. He groaned, but let his hands wander down between her legs, finding her still slick from the night before with their combined juices. With a gentle shift of hips, he slid back in. They stayed like that, him cradled between her legs, his elbows planted by her head as his hands cupped her face. 

“Belle,” he whispered, leaning forward to brush his lips against her's. As he leaned in, he rocked his hips gentle into her. The next kiss she returned and lifted her hips to meet his, her hands tracing through his hair. Slowly, leisurely they rocked and traded kisses, until release washed over her before he found his own with a whispered gasp of her name. “Belle.”

And again there relationship changed. The teasing touches were back, as were the conversation had while he spun and she read or did her needlework. At night, when they retired to bed, it was more playful as well. While what the did was always for her to conceive, he stared to show her other ways, other things two people could do in bed to bring them pleasure. She quickly came to love pushing him flat and straddling him, controlling how deep he went. She also love how he would watch her hands, follow them as she ran them across her body, cup her breast, twisting the nipple, or slip one or two fingers in her mouth, sucking, while the other hand reached down and caressed that little bundle her showed her, the one the made her feel so good.

He eyes would always widen as he whimpered, his hands tight on her hips as he tried to buck up into her, but she would raise up on her knees, keeping just the tip of him inside her, before sinking down on him and riding him to her release. She also love when he would flip them and she'd watch his face as him thrust into her looking for his own. 

In contrast to this lively lighthearted play, their morning sessions were slow, sensual. He was always over her as they slowly rocked together. Their eyes never leaving the others, their hands caressing their faces in between kisses. 

For two months it continued, teasing looks and innuendos shared in the weeks between her ring's glow. She was sure the time was almost upon them. She was restless and this morning when she awoke she wanted nothing more then to pull him atop her. She shifted in her seat, trying to ignore the warmth low in her belly and concentrated on the final stitches needed for the spinning wheel. The blue and gold thread she used for it contrasted each other nicely. She snipped the thread and tied it off and noticed that the small sounds of Rumple's Great Wheel had stopped. When she looked over she saw that, while he still hand a hand on the wheel, he had stopped spinning. His head was tilted and he frowned in concentration.

“Belle?” He turned toward her. “Will-will you come with me? There is something I want to show you.”

She nodded, placing the blanket into her basket to keep it safe, and let him guide her upstairs. In the hall to their room, he stopped in front of a tapestry and pulled it aside. Using his nail, he pricked his finger and flung a drop of blood at the wall, which shimmered before a door was reveled. He squeezed her hand once before opening the door. With a wave of his hand the candles lit and she saw it was a gallery. He dropped he hand and stepped up to the first painting, his hand lightly brushing along the frame.

She tilted her head as she looked at it. There was something familiar about it, but she couldn't place why. It was of a boy just entering his teen years, he was wearing peasant clothes, and a mop of curly brown hair hung down over his brown eyes.

“My son, Baelfire. He was all I had, he is why I became what I am. To save him.” He looked over at her. “He was fourteen and the ogres war was going badly for our realm. They lowered the recruitment age to fourteen.” He gestured to the painting. I kept him from the wars and brought all the other children home. I tried to do good, but, well, I'm called the Dark One for a reason. Bae, though, he was my reason to do good. He was my conscience. A heavy weight for a boy, but was stronger then I.” He motioned to the next painting. In this one, the boy was grown, dressed in much finer clothes and was standing next to a young woman with blond hair. “When they were old enough, he married his childhood friend, Morraine. They were happy together and had six beautiful children. Nearly had a seven, but the child didn't make it, neither did the mother. Bae was devastated, and made me promise to protect his family if something ever happened to him.”

His voice was tight and he stepped away from the painting, his hands moving in a pattern that she realized was the same as when he spun. She watched him swallow before he spoke again. 

“Many years later, surrounded my children, grand children and one great-grandchild, one night my son went to sleep and didn't wake up. He was an old man by then, but the loss of him-” He stopped talking and Belle could here the pain _still_ in his voice. “I-I couldn't handle it. Gave in to the darkness inside of me. Most of the stories you know about the 'Dark One' are from that time. It was over a century before I can back to myself and realized that I broke my promise to him.”

She tilted her head in confusion. He smiled sadly at her. 

“To protect his family. I lost track of them. I spent the next decade looking for all the varying branches. And watching as they all died out until there was only three. My many times great-gran children, twins Madeline and Matilda, and their brother, Jael”

He turned a motioned to the paintings hanging on the wall behind them. There were three painting on that wall. In the first, Rumpelstiltskin stood holding two baby girls, while a young boy of no more than three stood in front of him.

“They were such sweet girls. And Jael was brave and adventurous, he left the castle when he was sixteen to be a knight. He was killed in a skirmish in what is now King Leopold's kingdom. The girls stayed here, grew into wonderful young women. When they were in their twenties, they went to find families, but no one wanted anything to do with them because of their association with me. They died old maids, Madeline than Matilda following a few minutes later. Going out the same way they came in.”

Belle looked at the other two paintings. The second had a young man in armor, determined look on his face. The last was of two women, deep into age, but they both looked happy. Their eyes sparkled. 

“How long ago?”

“Two and a half centuries.”

“And you've been alone since then?”

“Who'd want to entangle them selves with the me?” 

She snapped her head towards him. The sheer self loathing in his voice made her chest hurt for him. 

“I would,” she said, crossing the steps between them, bringing her hand up to caress his face. 

“Belle.” It was sighed against her palm as he nuzzled into it. She didn't knew why, maybe it was the hurt still lingering in his eyes, but she raised her other hand, and used it to pull his lips to her's. What was supposed to be a chaste brush of lips became something more as they both gasped at the contact. The kiss deepening as his arms went around her. Belle gasped again when her shoulders came hit the wall and she ran her hands down his chest to tug a the laces of his trousers, reaching in and stroking him. 

He growled against her lips, his own hands gathering up her skirt, diving under to undo her drawers, when the fell to the floor, he grasped her bottom and lifted. She wrapped her legs around his hips and arched her neck, a scream leaving her as he drove in. She couldn't move as he set up a fast rhythm, so she clenched her arms around his shoulders and held on, laying kisses and bites along his neck. 

“Rumple,”she whimpered into his neck as she was already close, even with no more then the feeling of him moving inside her. He gripped her tighter and slammed in, hips shuddering as his release hit him. Belle let out another scream, her own orgasm overtaking her. 

When she opened her eyes a little while later, they were laying in bed, her head on his chest, and he was playing with her hair. When he knew she was awake, he lifted her hand and kissed her ring, which she now saw was glowing. 

She didn't want to thing about the fact that what happened between them in the gallery happened when her ring wasn't glowing but by noon the next day, it was all she could think of. She tried to tell herself that she had seen the ring glow, or just knew that it was time, but she knew it wasn't really that. All she knew was that she wanted him. Even now, only hours after their morning session, she wanted him again. Imagined here with her in the library, his body pressing her into the chaise. Imagined his lips on her skin as he thrust deep into her. She was so deep in her fantasy that she wasn't aware he had entered the room until he called her name. 

She jumped and looked at see him standing at the top of the stairs. His head was tilted, brows furrowed, but his pupils were wide and she wondered if she had been making noise. She licked her lips and held out her hand to him. He inhaled deeply before approaching, dropping to her knees in front of her. 

“Are you sure?” He voice was breathy, even as his hand crept up under her skit She nodded.

“Yes,” she gasped as his fingers trailed along her opening, “Yes, more-more times will help, right?” 

“Yes,” he told her, pushing up the rest of her skirt, leaning down so his mouth was right above her sex. “More time will help.” Her eyes rolled back as his tongue lapped at her, long stokes that made her part her legs to coax him to find that bundle of pleasure. He found it and she fell back onto the chaise, hands in his hair to keep him there. She barely noticed when he slipped a finger in thrusting in time with swirling his tongue around her clit. Her walls were starting to flutter, when she pulled him up and over her. She sank back and sighed as he started moving inside her, building her back up again until they came at the same time. 

After it seemed like they couldn't keep their hands to themselves. Whenever they met, they ended up having sex. When she was setting up a tea tray in the kitchen, she felt him behind her, hand caressing her hips, before placing her hands on the table and hiking up her skirt. As she read to him in front of the fire, she would slowly work off his shirt, hands caressing his skin until she was cupping him. With a moan, he would pull her into a kiss, disrobing them both and laying down behind her. Propping the book up, he would drape her leg over his hip and whisper the words into her ear and he rocked into her, hand working between her legs. 

All of this was between their usual morning and evening sessions. By the end of the week, neither of them wore more then the basics. Belle was eying him as he spun wearing nothing more then a pair of unlaced leather trouser. She was contemplating riding him as he spun, but she thought that the stool was too little to support them both. Instead she stood and stripped off her chemise and dragged him to the table, pushing him flat and ridding him until they were both satisfied. 

When their breathing was stable, he sat up, wrap his arms around her to keep them joined as his magic swirled around them as he moved them to the chair. Nuzzling her neck, he licked and kissed his way down to her breast, taking the right nipple in his mouth, he sucked. Belle rested her cheek on the top of his head, her hand carding through his hair while he nursed it like the child they were trying for would. She could feel the want stirring again as he switched to the left. Gently rocking her hips caused him to start to stiffen inside of her. She moaned and kissed the top of his head, but started when she saw her hand. There was a sinking feeling in her stomach as she saw that the stone of her ring was no longer glowing sapphire. He had never told her, but she was sure what the new emerald glow meant. 

Their deal was concluded. 

She was pregnant.


	5. Chapter 5

Belle sighed as the morning light came through the window and Rumple moved over her. She arched slightly to meet his thrusts as the rocked together. His lips were leaving pleasant trails along her neck and she could feel her orgasm building. But it was off set by the dread in her stomach as she caught sight of her hand and the glowing green stone. She clenched her hand closed and shut her eyes. 

She hadn't told him.

She was going to tell him last night after they dined, but as they sat in front of the fire and his lips placed kisses across her back, she didn't. She was going to tell him when they retired for the night, but instead she pushed him onto the bed and slid him inside of her, wanting one last time and she'd tell him in the morning. 

It was morning and she hadn't told him when he awoke her with his hand moving between her legs. And really, what was one more time after delaying this long? She would tell him at breakfast.

She hadn't told him by lunch as she lay on top of him on a chaise in the library, his member still buried deep inside her, throbbing out the aftershocks of his release. Her eyes stung and she closed them so he wouldn't see the tears forming.

The sun was setting outside the window as she watched him spin. Watched as his hands caressed the thread, remembering how they felt on her skin, the way they moved in her body. And knowing it wouldn't happen again, she squared her shoulders and approached him. 

“Rumple?” she called a few steps away.

“Hm..?”

She waited until he looked at her and held out her hand, palm up. He tilted his head and waved his hand over hers. She watched as his eyes widened as he took in the emerald glow. His other hand reached out and she felt the tingle of magic as it hovered over her abdomen. She gasped as he slid from the stool to his knees, wrapping his arms around her back and pressing his face to her stomach.

“Thank you!” he whispered, “Thank you!”

He kissed across her middle and she felt happy tears fill her eyes and she curled her hands in his hair. She could do this. She could live in the castle with him, wanting more and not getting it if he was like this.

_She couldn't do this!_

That night was torturous. She wanted to be in his arms, pressed against him. Not laying next to him, the space between them as wide as her first night in the castle. The memory of the look on his face when she dared to look over at him after getting into bed and rolling onto her side, her back to him brought tears stinging to her eyes. She remembered the furrowed brows over twitching lips before his blank mask fell into place. She wanted him to roll over and hold her, but why would he, she thought as the tears fell, The deal was finished!

The next couple of month were confusing. During the day he was as attentive as could be. Arranging for visits to and from a midwife, making sure she ate well and rested. But at night, the gulf between them widened and stretched taunt. By four months she had taken to sitting in the nursery at night as she finished the blanket, finally settling on a symbol she had found in one of the book in the library as a representative of the frontlands. 

The heart held between two hands was for love, the hands meant friendship and the crown about them was loyalty. She had finished the outline and it would take her the remaining five months to fill in the design. 

She was loading the needle with red thread when there was a knock. She looked to the door, but it was still as ajar as when she sat down. Another knock came and she realized it came from the wall that connected the nursery to the bedroom. As she watched, a section of the wall shimmered and a door appeared. Another knock came and she called out.

“Come in.”

The door slowly opened and Rumpelstiltskin stopped in the doorway. He looked around, hand reaching out to smooth along the dustless cabinets.

“I don't think anyone's been in there since Madeline and Matilda decided they outgrew it.” He picked up one of the remaining stuffed animals, a wolf, and set it on top of the wardrobe next to a bear, arranging it so that the bear was hugging the wolf. “It looks nice in here. Thank you for taking care of it.” 

He turned towards her, a shy smile on his face. She nodded and examined him. There was something about his actions that were confusing her. She opened her mouth but he interrupted.

“What's that?” He asked, pointed to the blanket.

“I wanted to make something for the child, so it would no me a little.” 

He knelt down in front of her, fingers brushing over the stack of books, and the griffin.

“I would not keep you from the child if it was what you wished.” he told her. “I would never keep a parent from a child,” He looked up at her. “I actually hoped that you would visit from time to time.” He looked back down at the blanket and she knew when he spotted the spinning wheel and the Frontland crest. “Belle.”

She smiled at him, hand coming up to caress his cheek, trying to understand what was in his eyes. He closed his eyes and shook his head before she found it out, but as he nuzzled into her palm, the tension between them broke. 

That night, he brushed her hair for the first time in months and they fell asleep with him curled against her back. 

More months passed and she could almost pretend that they were a happy couple expecting their first child. And sometimes she did. When she awoke to find him murmuring to her stomach. She'd run her hand threw his hair and she drift back to sleep with dreams of what their family would be like.

By the eight month, she had finished the blanket, it now hung off the side of the crib waiting for it purpose. Belle sat in front of the fire in the Great Hall, a book open in her lap as she dozed, the setting sun coming in the wide windows. She startled awake at the banging of the front door. 

“Rumpelstiltskin!” a voice called from the entrance hall. “Rumpelstiltskin, I know you're here, show yourself!” 

She turned in her seat to see a young man storm into the Great Hall. He was dressed like many princes she had know, leather pants, brocade jerkin, and a sword at his hip. He stopped short when he saw her, head tilted to the side, brows furrowed under his golden brown hair, 

“My Lady, I-” His mouth wavered as he decided what to say, then snapped shut when she saw her stomach. She pulled the blanket up higher and rested her hand protectively on their child. 

“Don't do it,” he said. She blinked not understanding as he came closer to her. “Don't do it. Whatever troubles you have it's not worth it to deal with him, not when a...” He trailed off and looked at her stomach.

She understood then, and got _angry_. 

“How dare you!” She pushed herself up out of the chair and stood as regally as her tutors ever taught her, shoulders back, head held high, hands cradling their child. “How dare you presume to tell me what to do! How dare you to presume that I would give this child away!”

“I'm sorry, My Lady,” The prince said, backed up, hands raised in apology. “But-”

A chuckle cut him off as Rumple appeared next to her.

“Careful what you say, Charming. Never rouse a expectant woman's anger. It is also not a good idea to _insult My Lady in our home!_

Belle wanted to watch the contortion the prince's, Charming, face did as he process what Rumple told him, but her head snapped to Rumple when he called her 'His Lady'. Did he mean it? Or was it just to play with Charming? 

She sank back down into her chair, hand coming out to pat Rumple's as he knelt in front of her, letting him know that she was fine. He gave her one more glance over before taking Charming up to his tower. 

She wasn't sure how long it was before she saw Charming leave, sparing her a formal bow before he did, but she hadn't gone back to her book. All she could hear was Rumple's voice telling Charming she was 'His Lady'. The throb of _want_ that ran through her made her sob. She wanted to be his, wanted him to be her's! 

Through blurry sight, she saw him kneel in front of her again. 

“Belle? Sweetheart, what's wrong?”

She shook her head, not able to tell him, even if she wasn't sobbing, she didn't have the words.

“Is it the baby?”

A head shake.

“Is it what Charming said?”

Another head shake.

“Is it something I can't possibly understand and I should just shut up and hold you?”

That combined with the earnest look on his face had a laugh burst out with the sobs. She shook her head, but reached out for him. He picked her up and settled her in his lap as he sat in the chair. She nuzzle into his neck and his hands running along her back and in her hair calmed her. She was down to sniffles when he kissed the top of her head. 

“Belle, was it what I said to Charming?”

She froze and looked up at him. His face was cautious, but almost hopeful, and her heart skipped a beat at the possibility and she nodded. 

“I meant it.” He cupped her face, thumb running along her cheeks to catch the last of her tears. “I want you to be 'My Lady'. I want you to stay here and raise this child,” He put his hand on her stomach, “and any other children we will have. I want you to want that as well.”

“I do! I want that! I want everything with you. I love you!”

He smiled and leaned down to kiss her. The moment their lips met something seemed to pulse through the air. They pulled back and she watched a rainbow wave of magic dissipate from around them. She looked at him, curious. He just smile and whispered for her to kiss him again. She did. And when she pulled back for air, he took her hand and held up a ring for her to see. This one had a diamond surrounded by sapphires and emeralds. She nodded.

“Are you sure?” he asked, “It's forever, Dearie!” 

She smiled and nodded again. He slipped it on her finger, kissing it, before kissing her again. Claiming her forever, as she did him.


End file.
